


Flowerpot

by kimwonplease



Category: Day6
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-04-12 08:59:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19128802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimwonplease/pseuds/kimwonplease
Summary: Where Dowoon begins growing flowers on his head since last Spring and in a world where people label him as a 'mosnter', he has come into terms that people may want to keep away from him; so it definitely shocks him when a certain boy constantly knocks on his door instead of running away.





	1. Chapter 1

I think it all began around last spring after graduation. Maybe it was the stress that I'd never get to see my classmate, probably the love of my life, but most importantly, my best friend Kim Wonpil. People have heard of Hanahaki's disease and what I have may dull in comparison to it, but to constantly have eyes silently judging you, anyone would be tired of it. I mean, What was so weird about having flowers on your head? 

But thanks to these flowers, I've officially been labeled as a freak. Not like I really care, I have better things to do than to worry about what the guys back in school now call me; the flowershop I'm currently working at has all of my attention. And honestly, flowers weren't really my thing but after their sudden appearance on my scalp, I felt that the best way to learn about them, their meanings, their growth, would be with a florist. Flowers are great, really, they bring different meanings suited for different occassions. Which I later learnt that my head followed too - the flowers that appeared on my head would always be in correlation to my feelings; leaving me a little too vulnerable for the world but no one apart from Jae, the florist-guy, knows this. 

Let me zip you in a little about our florist. He's a tall guy. Like, girraffe-sized. Also, if I had knew him before coming into the shop, he'd be the last guy I'd call a florist. Even he, himself, admits he was more of a PoliSci guy but one day, he said a stranger had given him a bouquet of flowers to which he knew nothing about. Till, he searched up the flowers online and found their meanings. Jae liked the idea of flowers and its personalized meanings - the rest was history. 

This is what my life consists of: flowers, jae and more flowers. I don't interact with a lot of people, they're too afraid it might be 'contagious'. But it's fine. It's almost been a year since I've gotten these, I'm used to it. Despite what everyone says about me, I'm doing good. I'm okay. 

I just needed to repeat those words a little bit more to come into terms with my reality. 

\--------------- 

Throughout my time in Flowerrific, I've met countless of people. The Caring Boyfriends who want to surprise their girl with a little something, The Neighbourhood Grandmas who are the friendliest of friendly; they even make me think I'm their grandson sometimes! And The Giggly Highschool Girls who come visit to ooze on Jae. All these different personas come to the shop on a daily basis, whether it is to buy some flowers or to just windowshop and some of them are really great people, they're friendly and non-judgemental and it makes work easier for me. And usually, my life isn't all that stressful, it was pretty okay actually, till that guy came prancing through Flowerrific's door and all of hell broke loose. 

And right on cue I see his silhouette nearing the door which I so hope that magically, the forces of the world can somehow prevent him from entering but just like always, my prayers were not answered. 

With the chime of the bells Jae placed on the door, he warmly greets, "Hey, I'm here. Missed me?" 

Ugh. 

He comes almost everyday without fail, around 4pm and everytime he comes, he orders a different bouquet of flowers. They're never the same. I know. I've kept track (mostly for work purposes - we have to know which flowers are selling, I'm a responsible employee). 

I'd like to believe I'm a rational person, but this guy always brings out the irrational side of me. That sly smile he thinks I can't see forming on the edge of his lips, his feline eyes that are constantly following me; they drive me insane. I don't care if people judge me for who or what I am, but he really irks me when he does it. I don't feel safe. Like he's secretly planning for murder. 

"Hello, what would it be today?" It was much easier to ignore his words than to let it freely roam in the open. 

"A bouquet of fresh Dowoons, please," He winks, "wrapped with pink ribbons." 

See what I'm getting at. He's judging AND mocking me at the same time. Good looks surely can't be an excuse to be a jerk. Seriously, what's his problem? 

Maybe it was my annoyed facial expression, but he quickly looks apologetic after making such a terrible joke. "Sorry, they're Freesias today, huh? Your pot?" He taps his head. 

"Did you just insinuate that my head is a pot?" Sometimes, I really did wonder what goes inside that head of his. It wasn't a badly shaped head, on the contrary it was a a normal-looking one, actually looked quite nice from certain angles (I was only looking in the name of Mathematics, the Golden Ratio... Though it probably didn't apply to heads. Or to him in general). 

"Yeah, I figured flowers thought of you as their home? That's why they grow on your head? Flowers need a lot of care and they're needy but they seem to love you; you must be doing something right," he frowned, "you don't see any flowers growing on mine, do you?" 

Before I could even think of a witty response, Jae comes from the back door to interrupt our "conversation". Easily, his face lights up into one of his brightest smiles. Jae was like that, an open book. Anyone could read him, even a toddler that only started learning the alphabets. 

"Hey, man! Right on time," Jae looks from the man to me and sighs, "you gotta stop bothering him. He'll age in no time if you keep this up," clearly sensing my uncomfortableness, he wooshes me to the back and I happily complied. Before excusing myself, I glanced the dark-haired customer and bowed, earning me a low laugh which probably made my ears red.

Damn stimuli. 

The rest of the afternoon, still went on smoothly despite the catastrophe I'd like to call Mr. Buys-Random-Flowers-Everyday. I don't know his name, Jae's probably called him by his name a few times but it would have taken too much effort to try and commit to memory; he's just another customer. Albeit a little annoying, but he helps with Flowerrific's sales and Jae seems happy to have his friend constantly visiting him. 

I guess it's okay. 

And 'sides, interaction with customers is probably a good thing, I think. It shows I haven't lost my abilities to interact with normal people which is kinda amazing really, considering the fact that most of the human population are assholes who secretly judge the collection of flowers on my head - but yeah human nature is condemning others for their uniqueness; you gotta fit under the bell curve to be loved, for society to deem you as 'one of them'. Despite Mr. Buys-Random-Flowers-Everyday being annoying, he probably doesn't harbour any bad thoughts towards me being a flowerpot. I hope. He's Jae's friend afterall. 

Work ending around 6PM daily, I'm a free soul roaming around the streets by 7:30PM. And with Wonpil gone, that means no one to eat dinner with. Which is honestly, a little sucky but my stomach's growling like a famished dragon and that's all the push I need to head into the ramen shop I frequent to. 

Opening the doors, I'm greeted by the salty sensstional scent of ramyeon and screams of orders left and right - it's always busy here, business booming as usual. The Kim's Ramyeonshop. Wonpil's family's business; I've tried abstaining from visiting here, I get a little queasy as memories of Wonpil and I cloud the room; the late nights, the secrets only we share, it's all a little disorientating but they also serve the best ramen in town and the beast down there seems a little too eager after whiffing a scent of Mr. Kim's ramyeon. 

Sitting at my usual spot at the counters, "Hey, Mr. Kim, it's been awhile. Could I have a chicken ramyeon, please?" I bow my head in unison as I ordered. 

"Son! Haven't seen you around, how are you? You disappeared suddenly when Wonpil left town," he adds, "yer head oka-" 

"Dear!" A feminine voice cuts him, accompanied by a light smack on his head, "get back in the kitchen," the voice shoos Mr. Kim away into the back hopefully to prepare my order and tame the beast that's making silent noises. 

"Dowoonie! I've missed you," Meet Mrs. Kim, Wonpil's mother. Treats me like her baby kid despite me reaching the prime age of nineteen - that's moms for you, pretty sure if I hadn't left my family in Busan to study in Seoul mine would be smacking me with love every minute of the day too, even more excessively than she does now on the phone. 

"Mrs. Kim, it's been a while," a smile forms, I've missed the Kims and their bubble of love. "Sorry, I've been a little busy lately, but I'm here now. How are you?" 

She sighs, "well with my two sons both never visiting me, I've been awfully lonely. Thankfully Yeeun's keeping me company while I mourn for both my sons, thats you and Wonpil, sweetheart, who left to venture out into the wild while I stay with my husband, chained to the shackles of managing this business."

Her melodramatic tendencies never fail to lighten the weight off my shoulders. That's what the Kims do. They make you feel as if everything will be alright - partially why I fell hard for Wonpil, he was my backbone. Now I'm probably an invertebrate. Kidding. 

Letting out a slight chuckle, "I'm really sorry, Auntie. Promise I'll come by more often to visit, yeah?" Which earns me a smile that stretches from one end to the other end of Mrs. Kim's face. Unfortunately, the Beast begins to growl louder than ever and with ears as red as a tomato, I apologised for the rukus my stomach is making. 

"Don't worry dear, I'll go to the back for awhile and see what silly old Mr. Kim is doing, keeping you waiting like that." And with that, I'm left alone at the counter - well not really, there are a bunch of other customers yet never enough to make people feel less alone in the world. 

As I marvel in the sights of the restaurant again, a wave of nostalgia hits me. And if there was anything I could do to turn back time, to spend a little more time with Wonpil, with The Kims, without these flowers on my head, without feeling like an invalid - I'd do anything. 

As always, these prayers were left unanswered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The continuation of the previous chapter where Dowoon has ramyeon at the Kim's shop only to bump into a familiar face. With the aid of alcohol, Dowoon's defenses weaken but never enough to truly let someone else in his bubble.

As the front door of the shop chimes open, my food arrives and I'm happily digging into the ramyeon. The vibrant flavours distract me from reality and I'm descended into a haven of my own - that is till I feel an unnerving presence beside me; my sanctum of peace crumbling as I turn to see what or who it is that's disrupting my tranquility. 

It's the familiar face - the stranger whose face I've seen dozens of times but could never place a name on it. Mr. Buys-Random-Flowers-Everyday. But really, that's always a mouthful so I make a mental note to just call him Pete. A nice generic name. He doesn't look like a Pete, with his dark feline eyes staring curiously at me, but it's the best I could do in such a short notice. 

I break his gaze by looking back at my ramyeon, unsatisfied by this, Pete begins speaking, "Hey Dowoon, what are you doing here?" 

This question receives a blank stare from me. "I'm eating, this is a ramyeon shop afterall, mister." 

Formalities. He's a regular at Flowerrific. He's Jae's friend. Formal. Unfazed. 

He smiles at my answer, "Fiesty," he laughs, "you know, I frequent this shop a lot but it's the first time I've seen you—" I'm saved by Mrs. Kim as she comes waltzing out of the kitchen, a smile plastered onto her face as her eyes lay on the feline man beside me. 

"Younghyun, honey! It's been awhile, I'm guessing the regular?" 

"Yes, Mrs. Kim, please and thank you," he replies with an easy smile, a dimple popping out. 

A shame that I have to let Pete go so fast, admittedly Younghyun suited him much more than Pete ever could. I make another mental note to thank Mrs. Kim for the heads up on his name though, I think to myself as I begin to dig into my noodles again.

But it's really hard to slurp absent-mindedly when you know someone's staring at you, probably judging you as we speak. 

I look up. "What?" 

"Nothing." Younghyun smiles. 

Irratatingly, I continue, "please stop looking at me," 

"Please stop looking at me," he mocks, using a pitch lower than his usual speaking voice; trying to imitate me. 

God. Please give me the patience to handle this man. Was it legal to irritate someone you weren't close to? Younghyun surely proved the opposite. 

As Mrs. Kim hands over his food, his body loosens and it looks like all the weight has been lifted off his shoulders as he begins slurping the noodles. His defenses weakening, I grasp onto the opportunity to fully study him. Dark hair, sharp eyes and if I stare— I mean, observe closely he has a crooked nose. That's good, at least one imperfection. I'd throw a tantrum if everything about him was... Tolerable. 

He seems to have realized, smiling coyly at me; I hurriedly stare back into my bowl of ramyeon and start eating again, ignoring the heat from my ears after having been caught starin—looking. And just like that we fall into an unexpected comfortable silence. Just me and Younghyun; slurping our ramyeon. 

After what feels like eternity, I'm done with my ramyeon and coincidentally so is Younghyun. But what I've realized after staying in my bubble throughout dinner was that he had ordered 6 more bowls of ramyeon which itself was... Amazing.

Not controlling myself, I begin to speak, "You... You ate 7 bowls of ramyeon..?" And he smiles. He smiles like he'd just won an award of somesort — so proud of himself, basking in the glory that he may or may not have a stomach made out of steel. 

"Well, it's time for round two so lets go get some drinks, Dowoon-ie," he replies affectionately. Despite myself, despite every part of my body declining this — I had to wake up early tomorrow and open Flowerrific — despite it all, I found myself nodding to his invitation, eager to see how much his stomach could handle. Ready to test my hypothesis whether Younghyun was the man I thought he was. A gourmand. 

Soon after paying and receiving Mr. And Mrs. Kim's surprised remarks that Younghyun and I knew each other (which is a story for another day — the Kims can really drain you sometimes), we were off to the nearest stall for Younghyun's 'round two' and my curiosity about his stomach. The walk was awkward, undeniably so, but I soon began to understood how Younghyun wasn't the kind of guy who'd fill awkward silences with more awkward conversing. There were times where he'd point and show me interesting things like a cat but apart from that, he'd just let silence take over. Surprisingly, I feel like I'm learning more about this stranger today than throughout my whole time at Flowerrific. It dawned on me then how lonely it's been working at Flowerrific, keeping within my bubble and never, never really interacting with the customers like how Jae does. But then again, it may just be the alcohol slipping in as I notice I'm on my third glass of beer, mixed in with a little soju for extra effects. 

Seeming to have realized my flushed face, the sides of Younghyun's lips curve into a small smile. He doesn't seem drunk whatsoever which annoys me enough to start asking him questions, for further research purposes, "You.. you can eat 7 bowls of ramyeon and still go for a second round, and now you've drank glasses of beer..... But why are you still fully functioning?" I flap my arms in annoyance and let out a huff. 

"You're just a light-weight, Dowoon-ie," he chuckles to himself, amused with the turn of events and my sudden vulnerability. 

Mumbling groggily, "Stop calling me Dowoon-ie," I say as I cross my arms. "I didn't even know your name till a few hours ago," feeling my face flush harder, "I even internally called you Pete!" 

At my sudden confession, Younghyun bursts into laughter with tears begining to form. "Pete? Why would you ever call me Pete?" He asks in between the fits of laughter. 

"It was all I could think of on such a short notice after bumping into you at the Kims' ramyeon shop!" I found myself laughing as well after saying this — everything's funnier when you're drunk afterall. 

"Oh yeah, how'd you know the Kims?" He inquired, shifting the subject probably knowing the embarrassment I felt from looking at my ears. I don't even have to look in the mirror to know how red they are. 

Drinking and embarrassment? Not a good combination, I think to myself as I begin unfolding my relationship with the Kims to Younghyun. How they're my best friend's parents, basically all the generic stuff. I may be light-weight but I'm still sober enough to know what I'm saying — to gloss over the details and never go into the deep waters. 

Younghyun begins asking me more questions. Where I'm from (Busan), whether I have pets (Yes, Tory and Hosun), if I'm living alone (Yes, my parents are staying in Busan. Mr. And Mrs. Kim are like my second parents who I haven't seen much of) — all the basic ice-breaking questions. 

I'd like to say he's prying but he really isn't, so it's my turn to ask, "Why aren't you asking anything about the flowers? You out of all people should be curious about it," 

"Well, I'd figured you wouldn't be too comfortable talking about it, even if you were drunk," comes his reply. 

"Hey! It's not my fault I'm a lightweight!" 

He laughs again at this, "Well, I guess we should go drinking more often to strengthen your drinking habits then," Younghyun adds and gives a quick look at me, "but maybe we should go back now." 

And somehow, I find myself walking next to Younghyun on the sidewalk of the streets of Seoul. This might sound romantic if we were in some sort of drama — but life isn't all that dreamy as I feel something get stuck in my throat, the heavy taste of alcohol consuming me. "Ugh... I wanna go home," I mope. 

"Let's get you home then, do you live far from here?" Unreasinably, I grow irritated at his reply; he's still feeling mighty fine despite going for drinks! The nerve. 

"No. I'm not telling you. You'll start making random appearances!" God, somewhat-drunk-dowoon sure loves sprouting nonesense; I make mental note to never go drinking again and hopefully I'll remember it this time. 

"Well, we could always come to my apartment? It's just a five-minute walk from here?" He suggests and receives a smile from me. "Now that, that's a great idea!" Because all I can imagine myself doing right now is napping on someone's bed with blankets wrapped around me and I grow hungrier for that image to come true, "let's speed walk." I say, positioning myself in a sprint-like position and he laughs at this too. Storing his laugh somewhere in the corners of my brain, I remind myself that it's only for research and not personal purposes. To test my the hypothesis whether Younghyun has a monster for a digestive system. Yeah. 

With that, we speed-walked all the way to Younghyun's apartment, me, leaning on him for support to lead the way, and him, laughing at my not-so-graceful way of walking. 

In what feels like several hours, we reach Younghyun's house. Nothing too grand but it wasn't shabby either. He directs me to the bed and says he has assignments to do so I can rest first. This was clearly out of the question — I may be a little drunk but my mom taught me manners. How could I sleep while the owner was off doing his work? 

I gave him the only plausible suggestion ever to have crossed my mind, "do you work on the bed. And you can't say no." 

He shakes his head, "Dowoon, we both know that won't take us nowhere." From the lighthing of his room, I could clearly see the dark circles forming around his eyes; fatigue present on his face and yet he still looks presentable. And somehow the room gets a little too hot and my face burns a little too much after looking at him for a beat too long and things suddenly become unberable. 

"Listen. I know you have assignments and I also know you're tired so I'll stay awake with you on the bed while you do your assignments," I turn away, desperate to look at something else that doesn't turn me into a blob of mush, "please?" I ask for a little push which wins Younghyun over and he props onto the bed and shoving me a little, "make way," he says. 

Opening his laptop ready to start his assignments, he begins talking to me to fill the time, telling me what he's studying, how university is treating him and I remind myself that it'll be okay — that I wouldn't remember much of the conversation anyway — that tomorrow, Younghyun will be just another customer buying flowers at Flowerrific. 

With Younghyun's voice growing softer, I feel the weight of my eyelids grow heavier with each second. And finally, I surrender to their cries as nothing but Younghyun's voice reverbrates throughout the whole room; a calming melody that lulls me to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I was debating whether to continue writing HAHAHAHAHAH I didn't really know if people liked this or thought it was boring heck I didn't even know if people were reading this haha but then I didn't want to abandon Dowoon and Younghyun's story so I'll try my best to keep up despite everything. Also I love briwoon and I really wanna do something esp bc i have no talent whatsover but meh :") 
> 
> Also i've changed my name to my twitter name in case it gets a little too confusing also i want some briwoon friends HAHAAH wow im so lame

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! This story is inspired by FLOWERPOT on Webtoon by Leehama. I really liked the idea of flowerpots so please do support both this fic and Leehama on webtoon! (Though Flowerpot on webtoon is on an indefinite hiatus boohoo). Also, I haven't written in two years so it may not be the best and this is undeniably short but welp who cares who'd read this anyways heh


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